Run the Risk
Page 42
After dropping into the dark room, he paused to listen. He heard nothing, so he left his hat on the bathroom counter and pulled out the penlight to start his inspection. He checked the medicine cabinet. Any prescribed meds would have a name on the label—but he found none, just the usual OTC stuff, enough to look as though Logan truly lived there. A razor, a toothbrush…okay, so the guy had settled in long-term. That proved nothing.
Rowdy crept through the apartment. Because he’d lived on the edge, he knew how to cover his tracks. Without a trace of his presence, he went through the bedroom and back out again. No drawers were left askew, not even a shift in the blankets on the unmade bed.
He didn’t find anything.
Both relieved and frustrated, he saved the living room for last. Standing in the middle of the floor, he looked around, orienting himself to the shadows, the placement of furniture and lamps. He could hear noise from Pepper’s apartment next door—the sound of the television, occasional conversation.
The closet held nothing out of the ordinary. That in itself was a little strange. Most people stored stuff in the closets. There was no box of photos, no unused sports equipment. Nothing much at all, other than a lightweight jacket and a spare pair of sneakers.
Disturbed by that, Rowdy opened up the desk. Typical bills, checkbook, mail. All the props necessary to pull off a cover—or to actually occupy a place.
Still unconvinced, he searched beneath the drawers—and found wires.
His focus narrowed, his thoughts centered.
Pulling them free, he held the penlight in his teeth and examined the device…and it hit him.
Fuck.
He no sooner realized that Logan had been listening in on Pepper than he heard running footsteps in the hallway outside.
More than one person.
Hell, it sounded like a f**king battalion charging forth.
He shut off the light and hurried back to the bathroom where he’d come in, but at the open window he heard men outside. Damn it.
They’d cornered him.
On silent feet, intent on trying Logan’s bedroom window, he got as far as the hall just as men entered the apartment. He detected the hush of their movements and the clinking of their weapons.
Thoughts of his sister pounded on his brain. Was she in danger? Had this whole thing been a setup?
Rage coalesced. If anyone touched her, hurt her in any way, he’d pay. Breathing steadily, Rowdy slid his knife free—
The overhead light in the narrow hall came on, momentarily blinding him. Three men faced him, all armed, their aim steady. His hand tightened on the knife hilt.
From behind him, a voice said, “I wouldn’t.”
Fuck, f**k, f**k.
With few choices left to him, Rowdy dropped the knife. His hands in the air and his heart in his throat, he slowly turned to face the voice. Rowdy was tall, but this dude stood inches over him, with wide shoulders.
Despite the jeans and T-shirt, Rowdy sensed that the blond behemoth standing there was a cop. To verify the truth, he said, “Officer…?”
“Detective Bareden.” To the other men, Bareden said, “Shoot him if he moves.” He holstered the gun and produced handcuffs.
Laughing, Rowdy lowered his arms and only half listened as Bareden read him his rights.
So someone had seen him go in the window and had called the law? He’d be busted for breaking and entering? Big deal. Piece of cake.
Far f**king better than having a real threat on his ass.
But as Bareden led him back out the front door of the apartment, he paused to knock on Pepper’s door.
Going on the alert, Rowdy tensed all over again. “What’s this? What are you doing?”
“Be quiet,” Bareden said.
“You don’t need her.” Rowdy would not overreact. He’d schooled Pepper on just such a situation. Surely, she’d follow protocol. “She has nothing to do with anything.”
It was Logan who answered the knock. His gaze landed on Rowdy, and the smug prick had satisfaction written all over him.
Behind him, face white and expression haunted, Pepper stared at him. Her lips trembled. She put a hand to her mouth.
“Say nothing,” Rowdy told her. “Get inside and don’t say a goddamned word!”
* * *
VISION NARROWING, blackness closing in, Pepper took in the sight of her brother in handcuffs. Logan was tall, her brother taller. But the brawny blond looming over Rowdy topped them all.
She reached out to steady herself—and grabbed hold of Logan.
Through his teeth, Logan told the ironman, “Get him out of here.”
Confusion left her knees like noodles. “Logan—” She didn’t understand. A strange sickness expanded, making her stomach pitch, her heart thump heavily.
Logan drew her close to his side.
“Get your f**king hands off her.” Her brother resisted, lunging for Logan.
“Wait…” She made to move toward him.
Logan pulled her back.
Rowdy’s handsome face twisted as he stared at her with dogged insistence. “This has nothing to do with you. Stay the hell out of it, do you understand me?”
He couldn’t be serious. She tried to reach out to him.
Putting an arm around her, Logan locked her to his side. “Drag him if you have to, but I want him out of here. Now.”
“Yes, sir,” one of the uniformed officers said.
Sir? The awful, undeniable truth of the situation sank in and Pepper eased away from Logan. An invisible fist clamped around her throat. Her eyes burned, with anger and with hurt. “Who are you?”
Rowdy crept through the apartment. Because he’d lived on the edge, he knew how to cover his tracks. Without a trace of his presence, he went through the bedroom and back out again. No drawers were left askew, not even a shift in the blankets on the unmade bed.
He didn’t find anything.
Both relieved and frustrated, he saved the living room for last. Standing in the middle of the floor, he looked around, orienting himself to the shadows, the placement of furniture and lamps. He could hear noise from Pepper’s apartment next door—the sound of the television, occasional conversation.
The closet held nothing out of the ordinary. That in itself was a little strange. Most people stored stuff in the closets. There was no box of photos, no unused sports equipment. Nothing much at all, other than a lightweight jacket and a spare pair of sneakers.
Disturbed by that, Rowdy opened up the desk. Typical bills, checkbook, mail. All the props necessary to pull off a cover—or to actually occupy a place.
Still unconvinced, he searched beneath the drawers—and found wires.
His focus narrowed, his thoughts centered.
Pulling them free, he held the penlight in his teeth and examined the device…and it hit him.
Fuck.
He no sooner realized that Logan had been listening in on Pepper than he heard running footsteps in the hallway outside.
More than one person.
Hell, it sounded like a f**king battalion charging forth.
He shut off the light and hurried back to the bathroom where he’d come in, but at the open window he heard men outside. Damn it.
They’d cornered him.
On silent feet, intent on trying Logan’s bedroom window, he got as far as the hall just as men entered the apartment. He detected the hush of their movements and the clinking of their weapons.
Thoughts of his sister pounded on his brain. Was she in danger? Had this whole thing been a setup?
Rage coalesced. If anyone touched her, hurt her in any way, he’d pay. Breathing steadily, Rowdy slid his knife free—
The overhead light in the narrow hall came on, momentarily blinding him. Three men faced him, all armed, their aim steady. His hand tightened on the knife hilt.
From behind him, a voice said, “I wouldn’t.”
Fuck, f**k, f**k.
With few choices left to him, Rowdy dropped the knife. His hands in the air and his heart in his throat, he slowly turned to face the voice. Rowdy was tall, but this dude stood inches over him, with wide shoulders.
Despite the jeans and T-shirt, Rowdy sensed that the blond behemoth standing there was a cop. To verify the truth, he said, “Officer…?”
“Detective Bareden.” To the other men, Bareden said, “Shoot him if he moves.” He holstered the gun and produced handcuffs.
Laughing, Rowdy lowered his arms and only half listened as Bareden read him his rights.
So someone had seen him go in the window and had called the law? He’d be busted for breaking and entering? Big deal. Piece of cake.
Far f**king better than having a real threat on his ass.
But as Bareden led him back out the front door of the apartment, he paused to knock on Pepper’s door.
Going on the alert, Rowdy tensed all over again. “What’s this? What are you doing?”
“Be quiet,” Bareden said.
“You don’t need her.” Rowdy would not overreact. He’d schooled Pepper on just such a situation. Surely, she’d follow protocol. “She has nothing to do with anything.”
It was Logan who answered the knock. His gaze landed on Rowdy, and the smug prick had satisfaction written all over him.
Behind him, face white and expression haunted, Pepper stared at him. Her lips trembled. She put a hand to her mouth.
“Say nothing,” Rowdy told her. “Get inside and don’t say a goddamned word!”
* * *
VISION NARROWING, blackness closing in, Pepper took in the sight of her brother in handcuffs. Logan was tall, her brother taller. But the brawny blond looming over Rowdy topped them all.
She reached out to steady herself—and grabbed hold of Logan.
Through his teeth, Logan told the ironman, “Get him out of here.”
Confusion left her knees like noodles. “Logan—” She didn’t understand. A strange sickness expanded, making her stomach pitch, her heart thump heavily.
Logan drew her close to his side.
“Get your f**king hands off her.” Her brother resisted, lunging for Logan.
“Wait…” She made to move toward him.
Logan pulled her back.
Rowdy’s handsome face twisted as he stared at her with dogged insistence. “This has nothing to do with you. Stay the hell out of it, do you understand me?”
He couldn’t be serious. She tried to reach out to him.
Putting an arm around her, Logan locked her to his side. “Drag him if you have to, but I want him out of here. Now.”
“Yes, sir,” one of the uniformed officers said.
Sir? The awful, undeniable truth of the situation sank in and Pepper eased away from Logan. An invisible fist clamped around her throat. Her eyes burned, with anger and with hurt. “Who are you?”
